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She hated casinos. Everyone drank too much, gambled too much, and had their egos inflated or deflated depending on the stack of chips in front of them. Thing was, there was no way to tell what was going to happen. It all hinged on the game on the table.
She hated that, the lack of control. Leo was surprised she didn’t like to gamble, considering her chosen profession. Being a thief was always a gamble according to him. She begged to differ. Being a good asset repossession specialist was a matter of being prepared for every eventuality. She controlled her environment as much as possible and then created plans to deal with every conceivable circumstance that might occur. It was all coordinated to the nth degree.
Except for that not-so-empty balcony in Venice. She dismissed the thought immediately. She walked around another bank of slot machines. She had handled it but was glad to be in Long Island. Always good to have an ocean between her and her last job.
She found a spot at the rail in the corner of the mezzanine. It was a good vantage point to see the whole casino floor, and it was hard for anyone to sneak up on her. She settled in, leaning on the rail. She glanced down at the drunk. The waitress was back, only this time she had a big bruiser of a security guard with her. “Good for her,” Alex mumbled.
She missed the apartment in Venice. Standard operating procedure for her had always been to leave the city of her latest job far behind her as quickly as possible. Usually she liked bouncing from place to place, but now she was finding it tedious living in hotels. She wasn’t ready to retire like Leo wanted, but maybe buying a place so she had somewhere to go during her downtime wasn’t the worst idea.
She noticed a woman working her way across the casino floor. It wasn’t her sparkly blue dress that made her stand out—it was the way she moved. A small smile played on the woman’s lips. By the time she made it across to the stairs, Alex figured she had lifted two wallets and quite a few chips. From Alex’s vantage point, however, she could see casino security closing in. Amateur for sure. This was a Wagner casino, and anything owned by Luke Wagner had top-notch security, cameras everywhere. Whoever the woman was, she was in for it. The security men grabbed her by the arms and ushered her through some unmarked doors off to the right.
Alex glanced at her watch. Drake was usually here by now. According to her research, he and the casino owner had a standing man-date. Unless, of course, business interfered. Drake was a notorious workaholic. She shifted her weight to her other foot and tried to surreptitiously stretch a bit.
Suddenly, there was a yell. A squealing woman in a very skimpy red dress dashed across the floor and launched herself at a dark-haired man dressed in an expensive suit, only to be stopped in mid-air by a security guard. She landed on her butt with a solid thud. Alex winced inwardly. That had to hurt.
Alex squinted slightly to cut the glare from the lighting. “Fuck.” She ground her teeth. The target was Drake, and the security guy who’d stopped the woman was none other than the guy from the balcony in Venice. Her hands curled into fists. Well, if that didn’t just suck big-time.
What the hell was Drake doing with real security? He usually used the no-neck guys who weren’t very bright. She had been excited to learn his head of security had just quit. He’d been the only real security professional of the lot. It hadn’t occurred to her that Drake would go out and hire a completely different team, but didn’t it just figure? Of course, he’d hired real security after she accepted a job stealing from him. An uncomfortable feeling stole over her. Had he somehow known she was coming?
She grabbed the railing, her knuckles turning white, and stood rooted in place. Then she caught herself—this was the behavior that drew unwanted attention to a person. Get a grip. She took a calming breath and let go of the railing. What the hell was wrong with her? She never panicked like this. She shook it off.
Drake helped the blond up and gave her a hug. He looked good in his summer suit. The grey pinstripe with the white shirt showed off the tan he’d already acquired. She could understand why women found him attractive. His curly dark hair and deep green eyes had fooled more than one woman into thinking she was in love.
Alex watched the woman in red as she leaned in and planted a big kiss on Drake. She let go and then turned around and started yelling at the security guy. One minute she was wagging a finger in his face, the next she wasn’t. Alex hadn’t even seen the security guy’s hand move, but suddenly the blond became quite pale. It was hard to tell, but it looked like Drake had a smile on his face. What an asshole.
Drake started walking across the floor once again, Blondie following in his wake, and the security guy and his crew moved to form an outer circle around them to keep them protected. Balcony James Bond’s head was on a swivel. This must be a bit of a nightmare for him. All casinos had their own security, but still. They were crowded, and anyone could come out of anywhere and then disappear back into the throng.
As the group crossed the floor, the security guy glanced up, and their eyes met. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. She waited a beat, and then two. Finally, he looked away. Had she seen recognition in his eyes? She didn’t think so. After all, she was wearing her black long-haired wig tonight to match her dress. Her outfit was blah, strategically chosen so she could fade into the background. She had even worn brown contacts to hide her distinctive green eyes. Besides, it had been dark on that balcony and she’d been wearing a mask.
She willed her heartbeat back to normal. This changed things…a lot. She needed Leo. There was a new player in this game, and before moving forward, she had to know all she could about this security guy. It would mean doing a lot more research. Stealing a watch was one thing. But stealing a car kept under lock and key and—she was guessing—about fifty more layers of security than it had last week? Yeah, that was going to be a bit of an issue.
“Well, shit.” This job had disaster written all over it.
Chapter Six
Mitch scanned the crowd again. Back and forth. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but it paid to be vigilant. Not that anyone was going to try to kill his client, not tonight at least. Well, maybe he would, but that was his personal cross to bear.
The blonde with his client, Honey she called herself, was still shooting dirty looks his way. What did she expect? You can’t launch yourself at someone who’s surrounded by bodyguards and expect to get through. Of course, her landing could have been a bit less harsh. He grimaced. She’d know better next time.
He could feel someone’s gaze. All the years he’d spent on foreign soil surrounded by people trying to kill him had given him a great sense of when he was being watched. He scanned the crowd again, holding his hands loosely by his sides. Ready, just in case. He looked up.
There. On the mezzanine. A woman with black hair and a black dress. Their eyes locked. Something tweaked in his brain, as if the gears were trying to come together but couldn’t. Was she familiar somehow? She was indisputably attractive, and something else might stir if he’d allow it, but that wasn’t what bothered him. Whatever was troubling him played at the edge of his thoughts, but wouldn’t come into focus.
He shifted his gaze back to the area ahead of him, scanning for threats as they made their way to the exit. Nothing else caught his attention, just the regular casino crowd, dressed to the nines to lose their money. What a gig. He hated casinos and, truth be told, wasn’t too fond of the Hamptons either. He found himself looking for the woman, but she was gone.
“Callahan, are you listening?”
“Yes,” he immediately responded. He certainly did not need to devote his entire attention to the man’s conversation to pick up the thrust of it. Turning to Drake, he said, “There’s been a change of plans, and Wagner’s going to meet you at a restaurant.”
Drake nodded.
“Okay.” Mitch signaled to Jake, a former SEAL teammate and now one of his security guys, who spoke into an earpiece and then nodded back. “The car will be around front in...” He glanced at Jake, who held up three fing
ers. “Three minutes, Mr. Drake. Let’s go.”
He glanced around one more time, but the woman in black was still gone. A small feeling of uncertainty crept into the pit of his stomach. As they continued toward the doors, he kept up his sweep of the casino. With all the flashing lights and noise, it was easy to get distracted. There was always something moving in his peripheral vision.
He sent Jake ahead, and when he saw the car outside the doors, they moved forward. He made sure Drake was settled in the back before he got in front. He mentally gave a sigh of relief. Not that the car was much safer for his client, but he could control the environment better. He didn’t have to worry about random women throwing themselves at his boss.
Turning, he was about to ask Drake which restaurant they were headed to when he saw that Honey had climbed into the back seat as well. He hadn’t gotten the impression his client liked this woman or wanted her around. Drake had let her get away with the hug and kiss, but Mitch could tell he was annoyed. Drake wasn’t one for public displays of any kind.
“We’re going to meet Luke at Jack’s Fishhouse, aren’t we, baby?” Honey cooed.
Of course, it had to be the most popular restaurant in the Hamptons, and on one of the first warm summer nights, it would be jammed. A security risk. He briefly entertained the idea of suggesting a more secure location, but the expression on Drake’s face told him it was a lost cause. Grinding his teeth, he turned back around. “You heard the lady.” The driver raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Mitch grabbed his phone and texted the new destination to the late-shift security crew. His new client was one difficult son of a bitch, no two ways about it. The man was demanding and exacting. He wasn’t interested in Mitch’s take on why certain places were best avoided. Drake had been crystal clear: Mitch’s job was to do whatever it took to make it safe for him to go wherever he wanted to go. No exceptions.
Mitch had no real idea why Drake wanted this much security. He claimed that he’d been receiving death threats, but he’d deleted the emails and he hadn’t gotten anymore in the days since Mitch had taken the job. Or so he said. Maybe he was just paranoid. Whatever the real reason Drake wanted security, he wasn’t sharing it with Mitch just yet.
If Callahan Security didn’t need this job so badly, Mitch would’ve quit. It had been a mistake to take the job in the first place. He’d been the one to suggest branching out into the private security sector after taking over their father’s home security business. It had seemed like a natural choice. Fact was, he’d pushed his brothers into it. Convinced them there was money to be made, and Callahan Security had the experience to do it and do it well.
Gage and Logan had reluctantly agreed. They’d both wanted to wait a bit, expand the business gradually, but Mitch had argued that he already had clients lined up, and if they waited any longer, they might lose them. It was a lie, but it wasn’t far from the truth. All he’d needed to do was make a few phone calls, send out a few emails.
He’d picked the highest profile, toughest job as his second gig. It was a massive gamble, and he shouldn’t have taken it. If this went sideways, it could tank the family company, He shrugged off that thought and instead chose to focus on the woman in black.
Had he seen her before? Maybe she just resembled someone he knew. He shook his head slightly. Nothin’ doin’. He couldn’t place her.
They pulled up in front of the restaurant twenty minutes later. Unfortunately, Drake’s opinion of Honey must have improved on the drive over because they were preoccupied in the back of the limo. Mitch got out and stood next to the car. Jake emerged from the support vehicle behind them and moved to the other side. They exchanged a “you’ve got to be shitting me” look and then simultaneously turned around to sweep the area for trouble.
Since the restaurant was on the main street in town, the cars were bumper to bumper, and the foot traffic on the sidewalk was no better. Everyone wanted to see and be seen. Between the horns and the conversations coming from the sidewalks and surrounding restaurant patios, it reminded Mitch more of Manhattan than a holiday town, and it was giving him a headache.
Mitch rolled his neck to try to relieve the tension. This was a shit-show as far as security was concerned. Any vehicle or person could come right up to the car, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. The only plus was, if the would-be attacker was driving, he wouldn’t be able to make a clean exit. A pedestrian on the other hand would have a good shot at escape in this crowd.
“Unbelievable,” Jake muttered.
“He’s the client,” Mitch mumbled. “He wants to screw some babe in the back of the limo, it’s his dime.”
The car door suddenly opened and out popped Honey, struggling with her dress as she held her shoes to her chest.
“You asshole!” She fought to right herself and put on her shoes at the same time. “I knew you were a big mistake.” She clutched the side of the car and worked her feet into her spike heels. Mitch knew the precise moment Honey realized the crowd on the sidewalk had slowed to watch the spectacle. Her cheeks turned flaming red.
Drake climbed out of the car and straightened his suit. “I merely took what you offered,” he said. “At no point did I invite you to dinner.”
“Bastard!” She spat as she slapped Drake and then whirled on her heel and stormed off, disappearing into the gathered crowd.
The look Drake gave Mitch was one hundred percent pissed off, but Mitch cut the man off before he could say anything. “Sorry, I don’t do domestic disputes. It’s in the contract.” Jake’s face was as serious as ever, but Mitch could hear a slight chuckle in his earbud. No doubt they were in agreement. The client had deserved that slap.
Drake’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his mouth shut. He finished tucking in his shirt and fixed his tie. Then he started toward the restaurant, completely ignoring the crowd on the sidewalk. The men fell into the usual formation, Mitch ahead to make way through the crowd and assess the surroundings and Jake directly behind to ward off anyone who wanted to get too close. They went down the alleyway to the back door.
Mitch had sent the late-shift guys ahead to the restaurant. Checking in with them now, it was all stations green, so he let Drake go in and his guys break off. The late shift guys would take over. Two inside the restaurant and two outside to watch the car and monitor the street. He and his team would head back to the yacht for some well-deserved rest. They all needed a break so they could be fresh in the morning.
Mitch wasn’t sure how Drake did it, but the man never slept for more than a few hours a night. Maybe he was a vampire. That was one explanation for his particular brand of assholery.
Mitch arrived back at the client’s yacht with his team. It was his habit to do a run through and make sure everything was locked up tight before he turned in, but tonight the idea of checking every nook and cranny in the five decks seemed extreme.
“Hey, Jake, grab three other guys and let’s go over the yacht.”
“You’re not doing it?”
“I’m too beat to do it all by myself tonight.” They were standing on the main deck. “You divide it up how you want, but I’m doing the lower deck.”
Jake shook his head. “Figures you’d pick the deck with your bunk on it.”
“Give me a hard time, and I’ll make you take the tank deck. Nothing like all that machinery to check.”
Jake laughed. “Fair enough. I’ll give Dan that job. You take the lower deck. I’ll do this deck and get Garrett to do the upper deck and the sun deck. How does that sound?”
“Great. Let me know if anything pops up,” Mitch said and then yawned.
“Will do. See you in the a.m.”
Mitch nodded and waved and then went down the stairs to start his search of the lower deck. Twenty minutes later, he crawled under the covers and closed his eyes. Images of a woman in black danced before him as he fell into a heavy sleep.
Chapter Seven
“So, lass, how did it go?” Leo’s chuckle rolled
across the line.
“Not so great.”
“What? What happened?” All humor was gone from his voice now.
“Drake hired more security.”
“Oh, is that all? Relax. A few more thick-necks won’t make much of a difference. You got this.”
“No. You don’t understand. Drake hired security, as in real, honest-to-God security with brains. Thick necks with muscles and guns I can handle. These guys are different.”
“Damn. Do you know who he brought on?”
She ground her teeth. “I’m working on it. I didn’t recognize the head guy, but I’m texting you a pic. See what you can find out.” It was a small lie. She didn’t know the head security guy, but she sure as shit recognized him. She would have been able to place that face anywhere. The question was, would he know hers?
“If you don’t recognize him, then how do you know he’s trouble?”
She could hear the puzzlement in Leo’s voice, but she wasn’t sure how to answer. Maybe a partial truth would be best. “The way he moved…the way they all moved. They were alert and focused. I’d guess military training. Very professional. Call it a gut feeling, but I’m telling you, this new security team is trouble.”
“I got the text. I’ll run it and see what I can find out.” He paused.
She knew what he was about to ask, so she cut him off. “I know what you’re going to say, but I’m not ready to pull the plug just yet. Let’s find out who we’re dealing with before we make any decisions, okay?”
“S’okay with me, lass. You call the shots. You know I’m ready to get out whenever you want.” He paused again, giving her the chance to say something, but she let the silence linger. Finally, he said, “I’ll get on this and get back to you. Play it safe.” And then he was gone.